


JJ's Canadian House Party

by Femalefonzie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Sex, Drunk Texting, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Excessive Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Getting Together, Hangover, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, It makes sense I swear, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Montreal Canadiens, Morning After, Mutual Pining, Paparazzi, Party Games, Partying, Pole Dancing, Sexual Humor, Slow Dancing, Strip Games, Stripping, Underage Drinking, blame canada, hockey players vs figure skaters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Femalefonzie/pseuds/Femalefonzie
Summary: Everything about last night was a blur. Something about Molson Canadian, red velvet cake, a stripping contest and dirty dancing...
Following the Grand Prix Final, JJ and his fiance invite everyone back to their place in Montreal for a party. Things are great at first, but then the liquor comes out and everyone wakes up the next morning hungover, full of regrets, and forced to face the consequences of their actions.





	1. Chapter 1

After dating for more than a couple of years Isabella had the way to the LeRoy country home memorized, along with the way to their actual estate. She drove alone, determined but also fearful, after receiving more than one call from her fiancé the night before. She hadn't picked up. Her criminology class was running late and he went through to voice mail, and honestly she had forgotten to check her messages that night. It was only a half hour ago that she noticed the blinking missed class sign. JJ had called five times but left no message.

This was not to say that Isabella did not trust her man...it was just that JJ could get wound up easily when left to his own devices for too long. The Canadian sensation had been like this since he was a little a boy. According to his mother, one time she'd left him home alone when she went to grab groceries and came back to find the microwave on fire. When it came to Jean-Jacques LeRoy anything was possible.

There were a couple cars besides JJ's in the driveway. Those cheap but huge vans agencies rented out to large groups, and a motorbike that desperately tried to maintain the illusion of being cool. Isabella parked behind the van, and tried to figure out who had come in what. JJ had said something about inviting some fellow skaters over, so who had bothered to come? Who took the bike? She got out and made her way up the porch steps. From what she could see nothing was out of place outside. Old hockey equipment cluttered the far end of the porch, a wooden bench on the other end. A couple old pairs of boots, wet and freezing in the cool winter air, rest under the bench.

"Going to have to throw those out." Isabella mumbled to herself, and made a mental note to do such later.

She continued up to the front door but before she could even knock, the door opened and a man stood there starring at her. Isabella knew this man. Fellow skater, undercut similar to that of her future husband's, stoic beyond all conceivable believe. Otabek. He'd skated with JJ for a couple years here in Montreal. She didn't think he'd be one to show tonight...

"Hey Otabek, I just came by to..." There was something wrong with him. Otabek's eyes were dilated, no longer devoid of any tell-tale signs of emotion but full of something along the lines of shock and horror. His hands were trembling. His skin was pale, and he was sweating. Isabella stopped. "Is...everything alright?"

He stepped aside so Isabella could enter, and mumbled quite softly. "...No. You should come in."

"What happened?"

"I don't even know where to begin..."

A scream erupted from the living room, followed by the sound of blows and yelps of pain. Upstairs there were heavy footsteps, and a couple of skaters rushed down to see what had happened. Christophe Giacometti, Yuuri from Japan and his literal trophy fiancé Viktor Nikiforov, and a few others Isabella wasn't on a first-name basis with, each in various states of dress. Georgi Popovich and the Russian Yuri poked their heads out from the kitchen, both looking wiped out and with bags under their eyes. There were others here too. Though she couldn't see them, Isabella could hear movement in the other rooms.

She turned her attention back to Otabek, tired, worn out Otabek, and managed a smile. "Well, I'm looking forward to hearing all about it."

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Though she was curious to see what was happening in the living room, Isabella's first priority was locating the reason for...whatever you could even call this. Skaters gone wild? Something told her that if she had been here and captured the entire night on video, sold it and packaged it, she'd be a millionaire. But that would be exploiting a group of promising young people her fiance hoped to consider friends, and that would be wrong. Well, that and the fact that two of the skaters here were minors. The boy from China, he was only 17, and Russian Yuri...Isabella could see from the front door that he was hung over. Huge bags hung under his eyes, his normally perfectly kept hair was a mess of tangles, and she could be mistaken, but she could have sworn that there was dried vomit on his sleeve. JJ had a lot of explaining to do when Isabella found him. 

"Who just screamed?" Yuuri called down. "Sh-should we call somebody? You know...for help?"

That wouldn't end well. Once again, Isabella's eyes fell on Yuri lingering in the kitchen doorway with his rink mate. He was actually leaning on Georgi now, trying to keep himself standing. "Not yet," She replied. "We should...check everyone out ourselves first." Starting with the living room. She turned, and started to make her way down the hall, only for Otabek to grab her shoulder and pull her back.

"Don't go in there." He warned her. There was something cold, and dead about his eyes. He knew what was in there. Whatever it was, it had terrified him to the core. "Please...don't go in there."

Isabella stopped and reconsidered what she had just said about phoning emergency services. Had something...something sinister happened? Certainly, this was the scenario most played out in horror movies; a group of unsuspecting young people camped out in some remote cabin in the wilderness. They get drunk, the couples start going at it, and then in bursts Jason Voorhees with a machete! Just as Isabella was imaging in the worst, as she imagined walking into the living room and finding the mutilated remains of her beloved JJ, a man stumbles out. He's tall, he's tanned, and he's fumbling with his clothes. Or should she say...his lack thereof. As he comes stumbling out, he's pulling his boxers up over his hips and mumbling something in a foreign language. His neck is dusted with hickies and love-bites. Still occupying the stairs, Christophe gasps and presses a hand to his grinning lips. Yuuri looks ready to faint and Viktor tilts his head slightly to the side. The Russians in the kitchen slowly retreat back into the room, neither wanting to deal with...whatever this is. The man in boxers looks up like a deer caught in the headlights, color rushing to his face, and actually screams at them all.

"What do you think you're looking at, huh?! Something interesting about what it is that you are seeing!? Take a picture, it will last longer! Come on! One of you try something and I'll rip you to shreds!"

Oh! Isabella knew who this guy was! JJ skated against him in Moscow! "Mickey!"...Why was he in his underwear?

The Italian hot-head had no interest in picking a fight with the girl standing before him. His rage was directed towards the stairs, and specifically, the snickering Christophe Giacometti. "Come on you freakin pervert! I have been waiting to fight you for a long time! You get down here and I'll show you some Italian spirit!"

"Oh no. I am so very scared."Christophe responded as sarcastically as he could. "What are you going to do, little Italian? Your sister has a better chance of getting a leg up over me than you do."

"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT MY SISTER YOU CHEEKY BASTARD-"

"What were you up to last night? Seems like you got a leg up over someone, ya?"

"I'M GOING TO GOUGE YOUR EYES OUT!"

"Please," Otabek spoke up. "Please. Gouge out mine. After last night I don't want to see again."

"OHHHH, quit being so dramatic! Some of us have real problems!"

"What makes your problems any worse than mine?!"

"BECAUSE MY PROBLEMS ARE-"

Someone else came out from the living room, yawning, and sporting even less clothing than Mickey. This marked...roughly the 11th time Isabella had seen a penis. Not that she was the type of girl to stare blatantly at the penises of her fiances' competitors, it just happened be RIGHT THERE, and was kind of hard to ignore. The man also happened to be sporting some painful, deep purple bruises courtesy of Mickey. "Good morning everybody~. Hope you all slept well!"

Mickey's response was less than polite. "GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU OVERGROWN NERD! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

At this point in his adult life, Yuuri was getting used to constant nudity from the skating world. While a few of the others, namely Christophe, Viktor, and Otabek, were surprised at the man's comfort in the buff around people he barely knew, Yuuri was completely stoned face. "Emil," He began. "Where are your pants?"

Emil looked down at himself, then back up, and grinned. "Dunno. Musta come off last night, 'Ey Mickey?"

"Get. Away. From. Me."

As amusing as this all was, there was still no sign of the host of this little party. Perhaps this was a good thing, seeing as Mickey would undoubtedly hold him responsible for...whatever had happened between him and Emil the night before. No! No, JJ had some explaining to do! Isabella had to figure out EXACTLY what had happened the night before, and if she was going to have to be defending her future husband in a Canadian court of law anytime soon. That, and she still had some important things to talk to him about. Things that couldn't wait. "Guys, seriously, has anyone seen JJ?"


End file.
